Phantom
by Gohanroxme
Summary: She was always there, by the head of his bed . . . watching him . . . demanding things . . . demanding answers. Wearing blood-clad clothes. A "Why did you save me?" fic with a chilling twist.
1. Blood

Phantom

**Disclaimer:**I don't own DBZ, blah, blah, blah.

_A/N:_Phantom_._Yeah, I've settled on that name cuz it fits the story better than the others I was deciding on: Séance or Answers.I was originally gonna mark this a _horror_ or _spiritual_ cuz this's gonna be full of "spirit", but, you know, that whole, "What If It's Not Horrific Enough?" problem worries me, lol.

And I guess you can call this an AU, because of _this_ happening, which I'm willing to bet could have _never_. Anyway, I thought this way of that whole "Why Did You Save Me?" interpretation is pretty interesting. I rather like it. And I hope you do too. R&R!

The first time she'd made her appearance was about a week after Cell, sometime near midnight.

He'd felt the chill in the air, like a draft wafting in from a window, though none were open and he was under the covers.

An unnatural static raised the hair on the back of his neck, causing his heart rate to speed up drastically.

He'd jolted up in bed, clutching the edge of his sheets, his mouth humid and sticky.

A sharp pain of fear rippled down his spine. _She_ was there, staring at him, her pale, blue eyes seeming to glow in the dark.

Her expression was grave as she hissed the eeriest sentence: "Give me what I want."

He'd backed against the headboard as she advanced toward him, gasping hoarsely for air. His body was unbelievably cold. "H-huh?"

She took a menacing step forward, her fists clenching at her sides. He could feel wicked energy radiating from them as he shivered, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Give me what I want," she repeated coldly.

His breathing had been ragged as he stared at her, frightened, wanting to duck back under his sheets.

W-what she wanted? What _did_ she want? How was _he_ supposed to know what she wanted? Did he want something from _him_?

He merely shook his head, whimpering slightly. His body was freezing now, though sweat trickled down his back. "S-sorry . . . I-I don't . . . ."

A noise like static crackled, causing his blood to run cold as she advanced closer, slamming her fists down on the edge of his bed, leaving a strange rusty-red stain on his blankets. "Answer me, Krillin!"

To hear her use his name startled him and the voice suddenly sounded extremely familiar. He could barely make out a glint of gold in the darkness.

"Juu— Juuhachigou?"

She didn't answer him, only continued to glare at him with gleaming eyes that blazed with intensity and malice, so unlike the terrified face he remembered when she'd been on the run.

It was like she'd totally changed back to the monster who'd pummeled Vegeta mercilessly. The expression she was wearing looked stoic, but he could see. She was furious. And he was afraid.

"Give me what I want!" She shouted again, her bared teeth a white arc in the blackness. "Give it to me, now!"

Her voice was layered with ferocity, her hands clenching tightly the edge of his mattress, as if threatening to set it afire. Another scarlet mark was wiped onto his covers, though he couldn't really distinguish it, or the odd drip-drip sound like something hitting the wood floors.

His bottom lip quivered unceasingly as he gripped the blankets in terror, scooting into the farthest corner of his bed.

"I-I don't . . . I don't _know_ what you want!" He blurted, panic-stricken. "I don't know what you _want_ from me!"

Her face looked so sure, so determined and seething when she growled out something unexpected: _"Answers."_

And it was then that he noticed the blood . . . crimson liquid dripping down from her chest, descending and tainting her striped sleeves, pooling on the hardwood floors.

He blinked in horror. "J-Juuhachigou? W-what's wrong? What happened to you?"

She looked as if she wanted to hit him . . . to murder him, even. _"You_ did this! You _did_ this to me! So _give_ me what I _want!_ Give me the _answers!"_

He was lost for words as she progressed toward him even more, blood splattering in macabre splotches on his covers, her face twisted with rage as she reached for him angrily.

The static noise fizzed louder and a cold numbness traveled through his body, nearly freezing his heart.

"What— _what_ answers?" He stammered. "What do you _mean?"_

But he was never answered. Because just like that, she faded away, along with her voice. Like a fog or a mist. She just drifted into the air and disappeared.

The puddles of blood were no longer visible in the dark.

He was still badly perturbed, though, even if everything appeared as if he'd dreamt it up. Even if everything was gone . . . the uneasy feeling was still there.

When Krillin had awoken the following morning, he checked everything in his room a frenzied manner.

No windows were busted or looked like they'd been opened in ages. There were no footprints on the floors, nor was any of what he thought blood. There were no stains on his sheets.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. And that alone was weird, since something strange had occurred last night. Something that had left him petrified and unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

After a few minutes of useless searching, he changed the sheets— just in case— and tiredly stumbled down the stairs, hoping that Master Roshi or Oolong had at least fixed an edible, replenishing breakfast. But that was too much to ask for, apparently.

Master Roshi was sitting way too close to the television and eating a bowl of cereal when he'd gotten down the stairs, whereas Oolong paced the kitchen, muttering to himself about whether the house had anything to eat that didn't make him seem like a cannibal.

Umigame was actually the only one who seemed to acknowledge the other housemates arrival. "Morning, Krillin."

Krillin mumbled an exhausted, "Morning," back before slumping limply into the red couch, not really energized enough to scavenge for food.

The scenes from last night motioned chronically in his mind, like a tape rewinding and playing over and over.

Juuhachigou had shown up in his room. _Juuhachigou!_ Only she looked as if she'd wanted to kill him. She'd looked evil, demanding that he'd give her something she so badly wanted.

Answers, she'd said. _What_ answers though? Answers to what, exactly? And why had she believed he'd had them? And why . . . had she been _bleeding?_ Bleeding and calling it his fault?

Shuddering, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget the appalling blotches that had once tainted his blankets.

Or had they? Had he possibly dreamt the entire thing? The chilly feelings too? It was all too bizarre.

The whole time, he'd felt Umigame's eyes on him and glanced down at the turtle resting near his feet.

"Is there something you want, Umigame?" He asked politely, a bit glad to turn his mind to something different.

The old sea turtle continued to study him intently, as if thinking about something important.

"Are you ok?" He finally asked.

"I-I'm just . . . tired," Krillin replied truthfully. His yawn came on cue. "Why do you ask?"

And he completely regretted asking that when Umigame regarded him closely, his answer slow as usual, "Well . . . it's just that you . . . were _screaming_ last night, Krillin. I was truly concerned. It sounded as if you were in genuine terror."

He gulped deeply, feeling his heart skip a beat. So he'd really been screaming. He couldn't tell him. Everyone would think he was crazy lovesick, or something.

"O-oh. W-well, you didn't check up on me, did you?" Maybe he'd seen Juuhachigou?

"Oh, no," the reptile said. "I assumed it was a nightmare. I didn't want to disturb you."

He mentally sighed. "That's . . . fine. It was a nightmare anyway. Just a nightmare."

He really hoped it was. With all his heart. Because if that had been Juuhachigou . . . . A sick feeling rose in his stomach. He didn't even want to think about that.

_A/N_: So how was that, you guys? A great start? A terrible one? I know it all seems unclear, but . . . that'll change. R&R!


	2. Hints

Phantom

**Disclaimer:**I don't own DBZ, blah, blah, blah.

_A/N:_ Well, I've decided to mark it horror anyway. Thanks for the reviews/alerts/favorites. Loved all the hits.

The next night though, Krillin was a bit afraid to go to sleep, or even take a shower at that, because he was scared that Juuhachigou might've been behind the curtain as soon as he stepped out. So throughout the entire wash, he kept on peeking out before continuing to scrub himself.

When he was finished bathing, he did this whole scan-the-entire-room thing before going to bed, checking his closet and under his bed and seeing if his windows were locked.

And at last, he'd finally settled down into his blankets after doing back downstairs for some hot tea, his senses dimming ever so slightly.

He felt relaxed, to say the least. At ease.

But it was around the same time that she was back and everything was just as horrible was seeing her the night before.

The damp, subzero feeling was in the atmosphere again as she just materialized there, him even noticing that she didn't come from anywhere.

That dreaded static noise sounded.

And the blood pouring in dangerous amounts from her chest had returned.

Krillin screamed.

Juuhachigou merely glowered at him, her eyes staring him down like icy daggers. "Give me the answers, Krillin."

Krillin's mind whirred as fast as he could blink. She was back. She was back, prodding him for answers that he didn't have. And she was bleeding again. Like last night. She could die if her blood kept on flowing like that.

He finally found his voice. "Juuhachigou, what's _wrong?_ What _happened?"_ Bravely, he extended a hand toward her. "Let me . . . let me help you."

Her expression grew darker, blood stealing the white color from her striped sleeves.

"I don't need anymore of your _help,"_ she spat, leaning toward him, so close, he could feel the coldness that was radiating from her. Her breath was an icy wind in his face. "Never again. I only seek the answers."

_"What_ answers?" He all but yelled. "You—you were here yesterday and you kept on— on _asking_ for them, but I don't know what you mean!"

Her face looked even more agitated than before as she pulled her lips back in a snarl. Blood dropped onto the blankets. What are you talking about?"

For some reason, Krillin was no longer as scared as before, while Juuhachigou suddenly seemed disoriented. "What are _you_ talking about?"

Her eyes were searing with abrupt ferocity again. Ferocity and something that Krillin could barely detect: perplexity.

She frowned, staring at the covers that she dropped blood onto. "He said . . . that if I found you . . . you'd give me the answers. He said . . . that I'd be free . . . ."

He blinked. "Juu . . . who . . . told you that? Free from what?"

She balled her hands into fists. "The red giant. He said I'd be free from here . . . ."

He eyed her anxiously, bothered by what she was saying. "Free from where? What're you talking about? And—" He glanced at the closed doors and windows. "—how'd you even get in here?"

Juuhachigou's breathing was uneven as she clenched her jaw tightly glaring furiously at him. He could vividly see the vexation that ignited from within her pale irises . . . like a fire.

Krillin quivered as a tremor of fear spread inside his chest. "Juuhachigou, w-why are you . . . _bleeding_?"

And then the static sound sizzled up again, Juuhachigou turning to him with a seething expression that caused the hairs on his arms to rise, whereas her blonde locks of silk didn't even move. The room grew colder around them.

"Because of _you!"_ She snarled angrily. "I'm bleeding because of you. Because of what you idiotically did to us!"

He had never felt so terrified in his entire life. Not on Namek, not on Earth, and not even when he had died.

He had always gotten this brave feeling whenever he was about to die: My time is up. I've had a good run. I know I did something right.

But there, as the woman that he claimed to have loved bled there, furious at the end of his bed, demanding and blaming him for things, he was afraid he would die of fright.

Her eyes were just so pale and emotionless now. Inhuman . . . yet they were _expressive_ at the same time. Malevolent. The vibes her body was giving off were vicious. Deadly. Like she wanted to rip somebody's head off.

Krillin was too winded to say anything.

"And so you have to give me what I want, Krillin." Her voice was frighteningly sweet and sugary. "Or else."

"Or—or else what?" He forced his voice to work just then. Because he needed to know.

Her pale-blue eyes narrowed and she lunged for him, grabbing him by the front of his white T-shirt, lifting him out of the bed. "Or else I force them from you."

Her hands were chilling, the coldness seeping through his shirt and traveling like a virus throughout his body. So freezing that he couldn't even manage a scream. It had frozen in his throat, leaving him completely stunned.

Kami, he was scared. Scared witless. Her cruel expression would haunt him forever. Her blood dripped onto his front, the only part of her that was actually warm.

"Juu— Juuhachigou, let go!" he stuttered. "Or I'll call . . . ."

His words died right on his tongue. This was his battle. If he got any of his housemates involved, she would kill them too.

She seemed to catch on, an ugly smirk gracing her lips. "Can't call for help, can you? Wonderful. We don't need anyone interfering. Now give me what I want!"

She rattled him brutally in her grip. And he tried to grab her arm, to yank himself free. But his hand passed right through her, as if she were a ghost . . . like a mist colder than ice that nearly stopped his heart.

His voice came in a horrified rasp. "Holy shit, Juu . . . ."

Even she looked a bit surprised for a moment; the arm that was holding him almost dropped him.

He stared at her in incredulity. "Juuhachigou . . . what the hell? W-what happened to you? What—"

Her face was less angry now and more wistful. Puzzled.

"Like I said," she spoke, her voice barely a whisper, _"you_ happened. You caused this. And it won't stop until you give the the answers. I won't stop. He said we can't."

"W-we? Whaddaya mean _we?_W-who else . . . ?" He shrieked. "And tell me why you're bleeding all of your guts onto me! Give the exact, goddamn reason, Juuhachi! C-cuz I'm scared."

She scowled and clenched his shirt tighter in her right fist, lifting him closer to her face. "Of course you're scared. I'm Juuhachigou."

And then she punched him in the stomach. Hard. Without even letting him go, like he was just her punching bag. Krillin's sight had gone dim for a second, his breath lost from his lungs. He didn't even know how she did that with an . . . easily-penetrated body. Still, the polar feeling of her hand pierced through him like an icicle dagger.

"N-no," he gasped, his abdomen aching painfully. "I meant . . . t-that I was scared for _you._ You're—you might bleed to death, Juu! L-let me help if you just calm down."

Her nose flared. "It's too late for that . . . ."

"W-what . . . do you mean?" He clawed for her wrist again, but his hand passed right through her for a second time. She was still unbearably arctic. "Why are you _like_ this? What the heck _happened_ to you? What's _wrong?_ And darn it, _what_ answers?"

She faltered for a bit and he noticed how he nearly slipped from her fingers, as if she really were a projection.

She literally _faltered._ And he almost screamed. Her body had gone transparent for a second. _See-through._ Like—like she wasn't _real_.

His heart flitted dangerously fast. "Are you _real,_ Juuhachigou? Did— did the others set this up? Because they know I l—?"

Her voice was hurried, breathless. "Didn't that punch feel real?"

"It felt . . . peculiar."

She lifted him higher, pinning him against a wall. "I'm warning you, monk . . . speak up, now, or thing's won't be easy for you."

He noticed that he was somewhat slipping from her hold and that the room was actually getting warmer. Her touch no longer felt as algid.

"I really don't know what you're on about!"

She slapped one side of his face, but it hardly stung. "Hurry up and tell me now!"

Krillin was almost crying of fright. "I've got a gazillion answers, Juuhachigou! Like why there are clouds in the sky and why Yamcha thinks he's a ladies' man! Which one do you _want?"_

Juuhachigou was fading fast and he was relieved.

"The answers of _why_ . . . ." She managed to hiss out before evaporating. And then she was gone, Krillin plummeting to the floor with a thump, fighting for breath.

He blinked, panting on his back and grateful that he was alive.

Alive. _Alive_. Kami. He could've been dead. _Again_. The thought caused a frosty shudder to run along his back.

Juuhachigou was . . . off. There was no doubt about it. Something wasn't right about her now. She had been bleeding and holding him responsible for it, babbling about nonsense, and trying to force some unknown answers out of him. Krillin didn't know _what_ to think. He didn't _want_ to think! He just wanted her to leave him alone . . . or to help her.

He didn't know what she meant! The red giant? And free from where? What did she mean she couldn't stop?

And seriously, why—was—she— _blaming_ him? What had he done?

All Krillin could do was coil up on the rug underneath him and try not to cry.

_A/N_: Short again— freaking only _six_ pages— and basically falling within the same atmosphere as the last chapter. But there were some noticeable clues and hints that Juu mentioned. Kudos if you know who the red giant is. Next chapter will be different, kind of. And the whole story probably starts there. Hope you've enjoyed. R&R.


End file.
